Tom Swift and the Asteroid Pirates by Victor Appleton II Read Free Book Online Page B

helicopter-jetcraft which Tom had invented.
    After landing at the Hudson River heliport, Tom and Bud took a taxi to downtown Manhattan. From time to time Tom glanced at the driver’s rearview mirror.
    As they neared the Chinatown commercial center at Chatham Square, he murmured to Bud, "Don’t look now, flyboy, but a car’s been on our tail all the way from the heliport. That’s a lot of streets and a lot of turns."
    Ignoring his pal’s admonition, Bud twisted his head and watched. "Yeah, four cars back and holding steady. I don’t like this, Tom," he said uneasily. "Let’s not take any chances."
    Tom nodded. As their taxi braked at the next stop light, he hastily handed the driver a bill and said to Bud, "Okay, let’s go!"
    The boys leapt out, slammed the door, and darted off into the crowd of pedestrians, mostly from Chinatown. Bud flung a quick glance over his shoulder.
    "You were right, Tom!" he muttered. "The guy in the passenger seat is hopping out too!"
    Tom turned long enough to glimpse a short but square-built figure in a tan suit, an Asian, striding after them, briskly keeping pace as he tried to stay out of view behind the knots of pedestrians. The two from Shopton stepped up their own pace. They wove through the stream of pedestrians for a few blocks, past colorful shop windows filled with Chinese merchandise.
    "We’re blocked by the crowd for a sec, but he’s still on our tail!" Bud reported.
    "Turn at this corner!" Tom said. A moment later he pulled Bud into a darkened doorway.
    They watched the sidewalk at the corner and waited. To their surprise, the follower did not appear. Finally Bud heaved a sigh of relief. "We shook him! He must’ve given up when we ducked out of sight."
    "Let’s not stick around!" Tom advised.
    The boys were now within walking distance of their destination and soon reached the address the Collections contact had provided, a tall modern office building. Pausing inside next to the elevators, they read over the directory of tenants posted on the wall.
    "Let’s see—third floor," Tom murmured. "Wu Nang Toys. Pleasant Golden Soup. Hing-Tse Family Association. Universal Exports, Ltd.. Okay—Trans-Pacific Import Company, suite 313. Up we go!"
    The door of the third-floor suite brandished a shiny, new-looking brass sign with the name of the company engraved in solemn, dignified letters. "No hint of what they ‘import’," Bud remarked. "Maybe nothing!"
    "I’d be surprised if it’s anything more than a front," Tom agreed.
    "I sure hope we’re not walking into something!"
    "Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s something ."
    The door was locked. It didn’t even rattle as Tom gave a rap. Almost instantly the door was opened by a young, pretty Asian woman wearing a high-waisted, long-skirted cheong-sam of jade-green silk. Tom was struck by the fact that she showed no surprise at her visitors.
    "Good day, sirs. Do please come in."
    "I’m Tom Swift," said the young inventor. "I was asked to come here. This is my associate, Bud Barclay."
    "Of course. Please be seated." She closed the door as they entered, and the latch caught with a decisive click.
    The room was scantily furnished with only a desk and a few chairs, which were well-padded with dark leather and comfortable-looking—but looked as if no human backside had ever sat down in them. As the boys sat down, the young woman disappeared through another door. A moment later she emerged and held the door open.
    "Please go in." A polite smile showed briefly on her calm, delicate face.
    Tom and Bud entered the adjoining room and the door closed behind them. They found themselves in a room lighted only by a single, rose-shaded lamp. It cast a dim glow over a small bronze statue of Buddha on a desk.
    An elderly Asian with a thin, drooping white mustache, clad in an expensive business suit that appeared to be seeing its first day of use, stood up and bowed to Tom. "Very pleased to receive your visit, my dear Mr. Swift. I am honored."
    Tom